Every time I’ve entered a classroom today, I have been off my game. I just don’t know what I’m walking into. The kids who were indifferent to me remain so (and really, indifference is not something I’m used to), though the friendly ones seem fine. Gordo and Vin Weasel glower at me every chance they get, and I have a strong hunch they’ve told more of the guys, including the acne-scarred giant I’ll call Red, who seems to bristle when he passes me in the hall. Maybe I’m being paranoid? Or maybe I shouldn’t have offered to let Vin Weasel look in my shorts. So much for the “girlfriend” ruse.

The biggest change is Ernie, who ends up padding around behind me to half of my classes as if I am his best friend. I already have a bestie, and they bear no resemblance to my new roommate. Except, they both always carry a device: Nix an iPhone, Ernie that handheld game thingy. Granted, Nix is decades away, but with my status here still so uncertain, I’m not sure I’m ready to be paired with Ernie in everyone’s minds.

I’ve been counting the minutes until lunch when he’ll hang with JJ, the wallet girl, and I won’t have to babysit. I know that makes me sound like a dick, but I’m tired. I couldn’t sleep last night. There was so much to turn over: the sparks in the paint closet, Gordo and Vin Weasel treating me like the next Chaz as fodder for taunting, and all the what-ifs.

What if I’m here forever? Will I grow up alongside my mom? And then what? I’ll never know Nix or Cheng or be me. Take my advice: don’t time travel; it messes with your mind. A joke, obvi.

Time traveling, at least in my case, is like being gay—so not a choice. Today I can’t be the-sun’ll-come-out-tomorrow-Annie—I’m more Maleficent-at-a-baby-shower. Trust me, it’s a whole mood.